In Truth and Lies
by IrishEyesAreSmiling
Summary: When the body of Ludo Bagman is found near Knockturn Alley, the Ministry comes for Harry to blame. Harry fights for his freedom but is found guilty by death. But why did he kill? What is Harry hiding?
1. Blame and Rage

**Ok, I wrote this when my friend and I were watching an episode of Law and Order. It's boring in the beginning but gets a little better. This is not intended to be a story, just a one-shot. Hope you like it.**

There was a sharp knock on the door at the Burrow. It repeated several more times until a woman with bushy red hair went to answer it.

"Who is it?" she called.

"Detectives from the Ministry. We need to ask Harry Potter a few questions."

Mrs. Weasley stared at the doorknob in confusion and the knocking persisted.

"Why do you want to speak to him," she shouted as she flew open the door. "Don't you think the Ministry has done enough to him already?"

A man with silver, furry sideburns and blue eyes held a badge in his hand. Next to him a young woman with short brown hair stood with her hands in her cloak pocket.

"We are sorry about our ignorance, Mrs. Weasley," replied the woman as if she expected this. "But this is an entirely different issue."

"What has happened?"

The man straightened himself and gestured for the woman to pull out a photograph. "You know this man, do you not?"

She glanced at a black and white picture of someone smiling and waving at the camera.

"Y..yyes. Ludo Bagman. Did something happen to him?"

"He was found two days ago dead near the entrance to Knockturn Alley by a group of first year students shopping for school supplies."

Mrs. Weasley gasped and slapped her hand across her mouth. "That's terrible. But what does this have to do with Harry?"

The woman continued automatically in a dignified yet irritating manner, "When Bagman was discovered there was a strange wound to his head. In the muggle world, this death was due to a gunshot to the head. Whoever killed him had a muggle weapon and knew how to use it. We have tested other muggle-born residents but none have shown any knowledge of how to use it. That leaves Harry Potter with the presumption and he did have a grudge against Bagman."

"HOW DARE YOU!" Mrs. Weasley screeched. "HOW COULD YOU EVER THINK THAT HARRY WOULD MURDER ANYONE? HE IS SIXTEEN YEARS OLD." The woman softened her composure and trembled. "You just listen to all the terrible rumors the Daily Prophet tells of him. Ridiculous!"

"Just let us speak to him."

"NO! GET OFF OUR PROPERTY!"

A stair creaked behind them and Ron entered the kitchen behind his mother.

"Mrs. Weasley, you are disobeying a law. Let us in now, or we will use force," the man warned.

"Mum, what's going on?" Ron asked. His mother turned around slowly with tears protruding from her eyes. "Ronald, go get Harry. Stay up and do not come down."

He stared at her dumbly. "Harry?"

"Go!"

Ron turned and leaped upstairs in a rush and his brain totally confused (as it usually was.) Why did these people want to speak to his friend? At that moment someone collided with him and hit the wall.

"Ouch, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "What was that for?"

"Hermione, where is Harry?"

"In your room, remember? He's doing his Transfiguration homework. HARRY!"

An irritated voice echoed from the bright orange bedroom. "What? I'm busy."

Ron pushed Hermione away and shoved his door open. "Mum wants you. Some people are downstairs and I think it's the Ministry." He didn't know why he said that. He knew it was the Ministry. It was the reaction from Harry that Ron was afraid to see.

But Harry's expression revealed little, like he had been instantly stunned into stone. He slowly got up and passed them without a word.

Harry saw them as he came down and knew they were to blame them about something. He knew it right when the woman turned to meet his eye.

"Mr. Potter I am detective Alive Grovner, and this is Detective Majorek (Mai or ik) Adner. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder."

Harry glared at her. "And I suppose you want to blame me for it like everything else."

"Harry, please!" Mrs. Weasley whispered cautiously.

"Mr. Potter, we haven't come to that conclusion yet. We need to only ask some questions that's all."

"Fine, ask away," he replied tersely as he dropped onto the couch.

Det. Majorek Adner flashed a picture of the victim, the same he showed to Mrs. Weasley.

"What about him?"

"I'll show you, Potter," He grabbed another one from his pocket. "This is after at the crime scene. Can you explain this at all?"

Harry focused at Ludo Bagman laying dead with his eyes open and blood circled around his head. "To me it looks like someone hit him in the back of the head."

"Obviously. Can you tell me a possible way of how he could have been hit?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I don't know, why don't you ask the guy who killed him?"

"Mr. Potter, don't be stupid. You come from the muggle world. You know what sort of wound this is. Tell me."

Harry suppressed his rage quietly as the man thrust the picture of the dead man in front of his face.

"Don't do that!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. ""Quit showing him that horrible picture."

"He knows. I'm not saying right now that you did it, Potter, I'm telling you to say how Bagman died."

"He was shot!" Harry yelled angrily. "Someone shot him in the head with a gun."

"Correct. Bagman was shot. The eason why we are asking you is because you have a grudge against this man and you live in the muggle world."

"Just because I came from there doesn't mean that I know how to use one. I haven't even touched one."

Det. Alice Grovner sat down across from him and made herself comfortable. "Potter, this attack ocurred two days ago near the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Weren't you there in Diagon Alley purchasing school supplies around that time?"

"So? I left with the Weasley's before dusk. You said he was found the next morning to Mrs. Weasley, didn't you? Wouldn't someone have seen him by then if I had done it?"

"That's true!" the woman cried. "How could he?"

Det. Adner sighed. "There is always the chance more than one person was involved."

"I can't believe you!" he retorted. "I'm telling you that I did not kill him."

"Who did then? You think Bagman offed himself with a gun he doesn't even know how to use?" Grovner joked.

"Maybe. Happens all the time."

"The gun was not found. This was not a suicide, Potter."

Harry couldn't contain his anger anymore. He stood up and pointed upstairs. "Do you want to check my stuff for it? Go ahead. You won't find it, because you know what, anyone could have done it. He was near Knockturn Alley for Merlin's sake. Why do you come to me?"

Both detectives stared at him without speaking. Harry's fury trembled his body as his heart skipped beats. Mrs. Weasley stood up and sniffled into a tissue. "Well, if you have nothing else to accuse Harry of, I ask you to leave now. That's enough."

Majorek rose to his feet and stuffed the pictures into his pocket. "Very well, we will go. However, we will return if further questions need to be answered."

Harry glared at him and then to Grovner as she followed him to the door. "Good day."

Mrs. Weasley closed the door after them and turned to Harry standing stiff in his rage. "Harry dear, don't worry. Dumbledore will sort this out."

He shook his head as angry tears threatened to profuse from his eyes. "He can't do anything. I hat the Ministry! They'll figure some way to convict me and throw me into Azkaban."

Mrs. Weasley deflated into sadness. "They will not, Harry. They do not have proof." She touched his arm tenderly but he ripped it away.

"I hate the Wizarding world!" he shouted as he turned to run upstairs. "I swear, if they do it I'll off myself!"

"Harry!" she screamed. "Don't dare talk like that!"

A door slammed in the distance.

Harry sat gasping in the bathroom and tucked his knees up. He clenched his hair tightly in stress and let out a sigh. What was he going to do? He was in danger already and he never expected them to blame him.

Someone knocked on the locked door, shifting his concentration.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione's muffled voice said.

"Go away! I don't want to talk to you."

"Come on, mate," Ron called. "We heard you and Mum yelling. You'd better not be doing anything stupid in there."

"Just leave me alone!"

Hermione ignored him. "Harry, I hope you realize that you are in the only bathroom inside this house. You will have to come out sooner or later."

"And I plan to stay inside as long as possible."

Suddenly a crisp, testy voice caused Harry to jump in fright. "Harry James Potter, you get out of there right now. I need to talk to you right now about what you said going up those stairs."

He knew he had no choice. Crossing lines with Mrs. Weasley was a very bad idea. But he couldn't move. He did not have the will to unlock the door.

"Leave me alone!" he said quietly as if in pain. "I don't want to talk."

Without warning the door flew open after an Alohamora spell and Mrs. Weasley barged in, slamming the door behind her. "Get up from that floor right now!"

"Pleas, stop!" he pleaded with a glint of fear. The woman swiftly grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall.

"Mum!" Ron cried from the outside. "What are you doing to him?"

"Ron, shut up!" she glared fiercely into Harry's petrified eyes and whispered savagely into his ears, "I do not want to hear you say that ever again, do you hear me?"

"Yes." Her grip was numbing his arms.

"You do not give up, Harry. You will NEVER give up for as long as you shall live. No matter how difficult life is."

"Harry's face began to redden in anguish. "You don't understand! None of you do! Do you know how it is to live day by day knowing that two people are dead because of you? I always have to save everyone else because of a stupid prophecy that doesn't let me live like everyone else. I had to be the stupid fucking Boy-Who- Lived and still people find ways to make my life hell. I don't care anymore! "

Harry's voice rose as his anger flared. Tears ran down his face. "You hear me? I don't care if I die. I don't care if Voldemort comes right now and kills me. I'll let him. I want to die because I have no peace here. I don't belong with anyone and I can't do what Dumbledore wants me to do because I am only a boy. I'm human, I can cry and give up. I'm not the savior of this fucking world."

Mrs. Weasley's face was growing a deeper shade of red at each of his words while tears were lining her eyes. Harry sobbed in her grasp. He was so angry and so anguished he didn't care what he said.

"I don't care about the prophecy. I don't care that I have friends to help me. I just want to die, I can't take it anymore."

He didn't see it coming. One minute he was in the woman's death grip and the next his cheek was stinging. He was on the floor holding his face in pain. She had struck him. Harry stared up at her in shock and let the situation sink in. _she had hit him!_

Mrs. Weasley recoiled slightly at the expression on Harry's face but quickly turned her eyes away and left the bathroom. Ron and Hermione came in slowly and saw him quivering on the floor still holding his face. Hermione cautiously sat next to him and pitied him immensely. They knew what had happened and heard ever word he had yelled.

"Harry, did you really mean all that?" she whispered. He didn't say anything to her in reply. All he wanted to do was to curl in a ball and waste away.

"Leave him alone, Hermione," said Ron quietly. Hermione looked at him for a brief moment and ran her fingers through Harry's black hair. Harry closed his eyes and turned away from her.

And Ron repeated, "Leave him alone."

**This doesn't seem to blend well into the story later on, but it sort of ties in with the end. Hey, it's dramatic though, lol.**


	2. Interrogation and Revelation

**Chapter 2- Interrogation and revelation**

No one talked about what had happened. It was one of those kinds of disturbances. Harry averted his eyes away from everyone in shame, especially from Mrs. Weasley. She too ignored him. Harry was always looking warily out the window in fear of the Ministry workers to return. What evidence would they find? Would it be made public so that everyone hated him again?

It was the end of the summer now and the next week they were to return to Hogwarts. Ron helped Harry jam in Hedwig's owl treats into a box to place under his robes. With a sigh Harry slammed the trunk shut.

"Finally. I can't wait to eat at the feast," said Ron as they made their way downstairs. "I'm tired of eggs and oatmeal."

Harry didn't reply, but nodded briefly.

"Ron, dear," said his mother. "Could you set the table?"

Ron wrinkled his nose. "Why can't Ginny do it?"

"Because she and Hermione are fixing their hair."

Ron gave an irate glance upstairs and grumbled into the kitchen as a knock came from the door. Mrs. Weasley was drying dishes across the room. "Harry, could you get that?"

He nodded silently. The knocking continued until he flung the door open. His stomach tightened fiercely.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." Det. Adner said serenely. "Would you care to come with us?"

"What for?" he growled. Det. Grovner was standing behind him with a small smile. Could they really be serious?

"Don't be an idiot. We know, all right? We know what you did."

Harry glared at him with all his strength and wished he had some telekinetic power so he could kill that man.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Weasley shouted from behind Harry.

Adner didn't answer. In a fast motion, far strong for a man his age, the detective shoved Harry against the wall and pinned his arms behind his back.

"Let go of me!"

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley screamed. "Release him at once!"

The man used a spell to wrap ropes around Harry's wrists. "We will be taking him to the Ministry, Molly. Don't bother to tell Dumbledore, he already knows."

"I didn't do anything!" Harry shouted as the detectives forced him out of the house. Det. Grovner took out a portkey.

"Don't take him, you have no right!" But in a flash they were gone.

Harry sat in a chair glaring at Det. Adner across the table. Other Ministry workers were behind him and he could see some in the corner of his eyes.

"Do you want to explain how you did it, Potter?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't kill Bagman."

"Oh, but you did. The blood wasn't on your hands, that is what you are telling me. Someone else killed him for you."

Harry was furious. "And who would I find that would listen to me after you people made my name dirt?"

"You're Harry Potter. People will do anything to make you happy, you know that. Ever since You-Know-Who was proven to be alive just as you and Dumbledore had been trying to say, people would do anything you asked them. You took advantage of your situation to dispose of Bagman."

"That's a lie." Harry growled.

"Is it?" Det. Adner placed his feet on the desk and settled back into the chair with a smile. "Potter, you are too convincing. Too good, honestly. Obviously you are skilled in Occlumency because I know you are forbidding me into your mind. I fell your barrier wavering to keep the secret in."

Harry's face softened almost at once but regained his composure. He knew something was going on…

"Tell me," Adner went on. "What exactly was your vendetta against Bagman? In all respects I had a few myself but I never really _did_ anything about it."

Seething, Harry crossed his arms. "That's personal."

"Oh, I'm afraid it's our problem now. Bagman was involved in a number of Dark Magic activities, which we know. How does that connect with you?"

Harry shifted his glance to the table to avoid further complications of the man's pushing into his mind. He sighed heavily. "Bagman was one of the people involved with the deaths of the victims of the Birmingham fire. He told me this personally."

Adner's eyes narrowed in interest. "Why did he tell you this?"

"He knew I was angry with Dumbledore and the Ministry. Bagman tried to get me to join him to get back with the fire. He was enraged that you all forced him and denounced his existence. I refused and then he feared I would tell."

"What did he do?"

"Threatened me. Said he knew a Death Eater personally who would try to kidnap me and take me to Voldemort. I knew this was true."

"So you were aware that the attack would occur?" Adner frowned.

Harry looked away shamefully. "I didn't think he would actually do it. Bagman didn't have a lot of support and almost no ability to carry out something as extreme as that. He seemed hesitant to even discuss it after I refused. Like he was going to back out."

Adner fiddled with his buttons on his shirt. "Where did the two of you meet?"

"Bagman cornered me during a trip to Hogsmeade in April. It was near the Shrieking Shack."

"You were there alone?"

"No. Not before. Two of my friends had gone down farther to explore the woods and I stayed to wait for them. Some time after they had left Bagman came out from behind and shoved me into the ground. Scared the daylights out of me."

Harry could see the man scrambling all of the information together in a rush. It was amazing how quick the old man could think.

"We have a warrant for the arrest of Asgar van Dalar. We know he was one who instigated the fire as well. Did you see him at all as well?"

Harry let out a laugh. "You don't have to worry about Asgar anymore. Bagman took care of him just before the fire was started. According to him, the man was about to sqeul and give up. Bagman couldn't have that. So, he wanted to get rid of him in a dramatic way. Sent him sailing over a cliff into the English Channel."

Harry could have smiled more. The man was in complete confusion. He didn't want to blow his chance to leave, however, so the smile vanished.

"How much of this do you know?" he asked slowly. "Now that I think of it everything makes sense now."

"That's all, I swear."

"You didn't tell Dumbledore?"

A glare fixed tighter in Harry's face. "I have nothing more to do with that man."

The old man pulled out a cigar and lit it quickly as if he had been smoking for years. " You had a responsibility, Potter. Your personal problems with Albus cannot hinder the truth. Unless you are happy with sixty-seven people dead."

"Well, they aren't, and I'm sorry," he snapped. "Bagman was a difficult person to understand. You never knew if you could trust him or not. Unpredictable people can cause unpredictable things."

A sly grin spread across Det. Adner's face. "So that's why you had him killed. Bagman was one less wizard to worry about in the Dark Arts."

"I didn't kill him--!"

"Yes you did," the man interjected. "Your little friend made it very clear. He told us how and why he obeyed you to play the part of the hit man. Your cover is blown, Potter."

There was a pregnant pause that stunned the room. Harry could feel his heart begin to pound heavily in his chest that made his breathing grow more rapid. Was he serious?"

"That's not true," he replied in a hollow voice. "I don't know what the person said but it isn't fucking true."

"Who do you think it was? Who did you use to murder Bagman?"

Harry put his face in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. "Someone is trying to frame me!"

"You told him that you like him, Potter. You thought he was good for the job and had the talent and you told him this. You told him that you could trust him to get the job done right."

"No I didn't!"

Adner came closer to his head. "You showed him the gun that belonged to your muggle family and taught him how to use it! You gave him the bullets and explained how Bagman was going to die that day. You gave it to him that day in Diagon Alley in Flourish and Blotts. Who was it, Potter?"

"I don't know!"

Fists slammed against the table and caused Harry to flinch with his face still in his hands. "Yes you do! Potter, give up! You are caught, we know you did it."

Frustrated tears began forming around Harry's eyes. This couldn't be happening.

"Who is it?"

Harry pressed harder into his face and screamed out the name. "Colin! Colin Creevey!"

There was silence. The detective crossed the room in a hurry and at once the men in the room grabbed his arms as Harry screamed being led away.

Silently, behind the dark window, Albus Dumbledore covered his eyes and wept for the innocent boy who no longer existed.

Harry sat miserably on the cold stone bench inside the tiny cell he was forced in until he would be moved to Azkaban prison. "Azkaban," he thought. "How could I ever survive that hell?" Yet Harry knew he wouldn't have to suffer long. Cornelius Fudge took the advantage to finally dispose of his "problem" that he had to deal with. Harry could still hear his voice.

"_This crime was unthinkable and unjust. The Wizengamot declares Harry Potter guilty of murder and deserves the death penalty by the tenth of December. Before that time he should reside as prisoner of Azkaban…"_

Harry remembered hearing Mrs. Weasley weeping in the courtroom, but he never turned to comfort her. She wouldn't not want to be confronted by a murderer. He saw Colin walk away with five months in Azkaban because Fudge managed to convince everyone that he was brainwashed by Harry into killing and didn't deserve to die. _"Potter has been known to have strange abilities and this may just be one of them." _As Fudge had said.

Harry didn't have a clue as to how he was going to be executed. He hoped it wasn't painful because as far as he knew, Ludo Bagman deserved to die, and the Wizarding world would soon find out.


	3. Why did you kill him?

**Chapter 3- Why did you kill him?**

It was late in the night and Harry was asleep on the dirt floor. The bench became too hard on his body . He had just gone to sleep only minutes before, but the hands of someone intruding woke him.

"Harry," the voice said urgently. "I need to speak to you."

He opened his eyes slowly and the person pulled him into a sitting position. "Dumbledore? What are you doing here?" Harry had a feeling the man wasn't supposed to be there.

"Harry, listen to me. I know that you did not tell the whole reason of why you did this. What happened?"

The sliver of the moonlight paled Harry's dark face, clearly expressing his depression. He wanted to tell the headmaster so badly that it was eating inside of him. If he said something would he not have to die?"

The headmaster could not stand his silence. "Harry, please. If you tell me I may be able to free you from the death penalty. I don't want to lose you."

"You don't want to lose me because I'm too damn important. I'm only supposed to live for the prophecy."

"No," Dumbldore said in more of a rush. "You are much more than that. Harry, please, what did Ludo Bagman do that made you feel that he had to die?"

"Hate." Harry replied bluntly.

The old man sighed. "Do not toy with me, I know you well enough. I need to understand this."

A small, cynical laugh escaped Harry's lips. "Why? Can't bear the thought of the little golden boy committing murder? Trust me, I would have done it with my bare hands if it were possible. I am tired of not being in control of death because it always takes the wrong people. Bumping off Bagman was getting rid of the right person for once. I've discovered that if I wish for death to change I have to be in control of it."

Dumbledore turned his head away and cleared his tight throat. "That is exactly what Voldemort believes, Harry."

"So what?"

"Tom does not view people as bearing loves that could come of good use. He sees pawns and power. That is his weakness, Harry, which you will soon have yourself if this does not end."

"It will when Fudge decides to kill me."

"It doesn't have to happen."

"Yes it does, because no matter how you look at it, I am still in control and both the minister and I get what we want."

This statement made Dumbledore regain his glance on Harry's face. He had a pleased expression that seemed almost detached. Like he was anticipating the very moment.

"You are making a mistake."

Harry smiled. "That is where you are wrong, Dumbledore. Because when they get rid of me they will see what kind of favor I did them by killing that bastard."

The months passed by slowly. After hearing that Harry had been sent to Azkaban prison Ron, Hermione and Ginny were deranged by the very thought of associating the word murderer with Harry. It didn't seem probable.

"Harry was bitter but he would never kill anyone!" Ginny cried to her mother. "Mum, you know that!"

The woman turned away and began cooking breakfast. "People change, darling."

Ron was more reserved at the news. He came to realize that Harry was truly guilty. Because of what he had done, he was now forced to endure the rest of his life without his best friend, something he had a hard time adjusting to. Even more painful was learning that Harry was soon to pay the price.

Hermione, to everyone's surprise, came to terms with herself and began to feel complete animosity toward Harry. She was furious that he forced all of them to live without him and feel the shame of his actions. It angered her to think that she had been a friend with a murderer and shared her things with him. A murderer! Mentioning his name made her seethe and she was sure that nothing was going to change her mind. It was only when she overheard Dumbledore discuss the night with Harry in the cell did she feel more pity. How much was he hiding? How much was he hurting inside?

**I am going to skip to the end since this is a one-shot story. Just imagine a battle with Voldemort and Azkaban was destroyed. Harry escaped and killed Voldemort …somehow… and now it is a week after the battle. December ninth.**

There was silence at the table as everyone settled down for lunch. Mrs. Weasley speedily dumped potatoes on everyone's plates to hide her worry. It wasn't unnoticed. Harry grimaced as the pain shot up his arm and grabbed the fork. He had been seriously wounded after the battle but Madame Pomfrey fixed most of everything to perfection. That didn't go unnoticed either.

"Use your left hand, Harry." Lupin quietly suggested.

"No, it's fine. It won't matter."

He had struck a nerve. Everyone in the room flinched and stopped eating. Even Ron had his fork spinning idly on his vegetables. Lupin cleared his throat. Harry found that he did not care anymore. So he was to be executed tomorrow, big deal. He saved the Wizarding world and risked his life, big deal. He had only apathy now for the world he as about to leave.

Suddenly silverware clattered loudly on a plate and Ginny stood screaming, "It's not fair! He can't die tomorrow, he saved everyone! Why are we just sitting here doing nothing?" She stared at every person frantically to give her an answer. Her eyes never met Harry's, but he knew she was trying to get a response from him.

Professor Lupin glanced nervously at Mrs. Weasley and tossed his napkin onto his half-eaten plate. "Ginny, please sit down."

"No!" Tears began falling from her eyes that became contorted in anguish. "Why aren't you doing anything? He's your best friend's son! Do you want him to die like he did?"

"Ginny!" her mother shouted. "Don't you dare be that bold. That was uncalled for."

Meanwhile, Lupin pressed his face into his hands and Ginny threw her plate, then fled out the door.

"I am so sorry, Remus," the woman whispered. She met Harry's eyes and looked away.

"I'll go talk to her," he said softly. Harry excused himself from the table and passed by Lupin, giving him a comforting grip on his shoulder.

The room where Ginny hid was completely dark except for the faint daylight from behind the tall gray curtains. He heard the sound of her tears muffled by a pillow and saw her body curled on the bed. For the first time the sadness began to filter through the impervious shield he had built inside himself. For the first time Harry realized that his death wasn't just his liberation but their anguish as well.

Something told Harry to just turn around. He wanted to flee to dead Sirius' empty bedroom that would be his dead bedroom where he could sleep away his sorrow.

"Why did you have to do it?"

Harry turned his head in alarm. "What?"

"You heard me," Ginny sat up and wiped her face on her pillow that she held in her lap. "Why did you do it?"

"That's something personal, Gin," he whispered. He felt her glare as he leaned in the doorway.

She was shaking her head. "It isn't, because if you haven't noticed, all of us are hurting. We have the right to know why we are losing you."

"It doesn't matter," The bitterness was coming back. "It is already taken care of. Dumbledore realized it, go ask him."

"I don't want to. I want to hear it from you."

"Why?" Harry shouted in pain. "Why do you want to now how I thought, step by step, how Bagman was going to die? It does not matter how I was able to get the gun or how I got Colin to listen to me. What's done is done." He turned his back to her and blinked back agnry tears. He heard her start crying again.

"What happened to you? Harry, you're gone, don't you realize that? You let your hate take control of who you were."

Harry fixed a glare at her silhouette. "It wasn't hate that made me do it. I had to. Why don't you understand that? Do you seriously think I enjoy killing?"

Ginny stood up and threw the pillow on the bed. It fell over onto the other side. "Yes. Harry, I do. I really do think that you enjoyed planning the murder. When I saw your face after the trial, when they led you away, I could see the satisfaction. You with that stupid smirk and the pleasure behind your eyes." She swiftly moved forward and glowered at him. "You loved every bit of it."

"Fine," he snapped. "You're right, Gin. I love to kill. I might as well go on a killing spree. Wouldn't you feel better then?"

"Harry, don't be sarcastic like that!"

"And why not? It won't matter, right?"

Ginny screamed and told him to shut up. She hit him repeatedly in anger but Harry's strong hands firmly grasped themselves around her arms and shoved her to the floor. Harry pivoted her so that her body faced away from him. He could feel her tremble in fear.

"What are you thinking, Gin?" He whispered softly in her ear. "Are you afraid of being in the hands of me, or in the hands of a murderer?"

"Harry, please!" Ginny pleaded quietly a she stiffly sat in his clutches. "Please stop. Let me go."

He didn't listen. Instead he put his chin on her quivering shoulder and buried his face into her neck. She had that feminine scent that calmed his anger and his fears. As he embraced her body he felt the stress edge away, only to be replaced by guilt. He wanted to love her like the romanticism read in novels. He wanted to stroke her skin and not feel afraid of her dying like all the others. And most of all, he wanted her to love him back and kiss him like how all the lovers kiss. But it was too late for him. Harry did not know how to love. He only knew how to kill and to hate.

"I'm sorry, Gin. For everythig I have done. I have shamed you and everyone else but I could not feel remorseful. I've hurt you, who had always been my friend no matter what. But I am glad to die because it is the only way I can be happy. Why I would be happy, you could ask. I can only say that I will be where I belong. With Voldemort gone my purpose here is done with so now what do I do? Have a family, enjoy life? I just can't do it. I can't love and I will not be able to live without thinking about how I could have changed this or how could I have ever been so stupid. I can finally be with people I love and will love me."

Ginny tried hard to steady her breathing. "I love you, Harry. I always have."

Harry did not reply. Ginny felt his lips brush gently against her neck, pressing soft kisses along her skin. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He tightened his arms to embrace her body and to feel the love he had been starved of for years. Harry slowly released her and immediately left the room with Ginny sitting on the floor like a wounded animal about to die.


	4. Ginny's Love

**Chapter 4- Ginny's Love**

The day seemed to pass faster than usual. Harry could hear each tick of the clock and flinched when the bell of the grandfather clock tolled the hour. Harry did not see Ginny the rest of that afternoon, but Ton and Hermione were aware of her sorrow. They had seen her lay miserably on the bed with her arms around herself as if she was holding onto Harry again.

He skipped dinner like he normally did that week. Being with them for three meals a day was too much. He didn't go hungry because Mrs. Weasley always gave him sandwiches. This night he ate nothing. When you know that you are about to die, eating doesn't seem so important.

"You've still made us proud, Harry." She whispered from the door with the food in her hands untouched. "No one could have asked more of you."

Harry forced a small smile on his face. "Thank you for making me feel like part of the family. I'm sure that if I had my mum she would be as great as you."

The woman's face screwed up in pain. She set the food down and wrapped him into a motherly hug. "She would have been a very lucky woman to have had you." Mrs. Wesley kissed the top of his head as if he needed comfort from a skinned knee. A real mother.

Harry couldn't stand it. For the second time that day he dropped his guard. Without warning he burst into tears and fell against the woman's body. "I'm so sorry. I know it hurt you to see me for what I did, and nothing I can do could change that. I'm just so sorry."

"Hush, Harry dear. Dumbledore told us everything."

That night Harry lay awake staring out the window from his bed. He was thinkgin about how death would feel like when someone climed onto the blankets next to him. A hand gently held his arm.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Ginny whispered into his ear.

Harry turned onto his side and faced her. "Yes, I would like that."

She snuggled against his chest and stroked his skin that was uncovered by his shirt. No one whispered a word for the first few minutes. Harry saw in the moonlight wet tears stream silently down her curved cheek. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"It will be all right, Gin. I promise you it will be all right."

Her sobs shook the bed. Harry could feel her tears on his skin and her pain merge into his own. "No it won't," she muttered. "It won't. Not without you."

He closed his eyes as he felt the grief drip down from them. Why was there so much pain when he had been anticipating this day?

He felt Ginny's soft hands wrap around his face and wipe his shame away. He felt her warm lips press into his own and never let go. And all Harry could do was to hold on to her. Her chest was on his and the weight of her love relaxed his pain. She kissed his lips and his face; anywhere she could, and Harry realized that she was doing anything possible to remember him.

When she stopped Ginny clung onto his shoulders and wept on his chest. "I don't want to let go, Harry. If I do I'll lose you forever."

**(My God this is sappy. If I read it really slow it sounds good.)**

"I love you, Ginny. It will be all right." For once he experienced love that he thought only happened to people other than him. He felt a woman's lips and her skin. He had come across a barrier that made him see what love really was. Now he feared death awaiting him.

"I fear it now, Gin," he whispered. "It seems much more terrible than it is. I mean, would I not die right away and suffer into death, or will it be quick and painless? How will they kill me?

"Harry, just stop, please," Ginny sobbed. "You aren't going to suffer at all. You have suffered enough already."

"So have all of you. Believe me when I say it, Gin, that you all will better off without me. My death means your safety. That's all you have to believe."

"I don't."

Ginny began kissing him again and ran her fingers through his hair. Harry lay there and let her do what she pleased, while gently placing his arm on her back. And that was as far as either went that night. Just a passionate kiss to remember their love by. Ginny could have done so a thousand times and had done it for an hour, no one knew. She fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and arm around his waist.


	5. The Execution

**Final Chapter 5!- The Execution**

The next morning Harry awoke at eight-thirty with Ginny sleeping soundly next to him. He cautiously eased away from her and let her sleep a little more. With one light kiss on her head Harry left the room and made his way downstairs. Mostly everyone was awake. Mrs. Weasley and Lupin were in the kitchen with Hermione. Ron was still in bed, as always. Every one of them avoided his stare painfully and remained dismally quiet.

Mrs. Weasley rubbed her nose and got up to greet him. "Good morning, Harry. Do you want something to eat? Toast, perhaps?"

"Just one," he said with a dead voice. They all looked dead right along with him. Harry wanted to please her one last time and let her fix him one last meal. It wouldn't hurt to anyway.

Hermione had a wet face as he came near to sit beside her. She was without words that morning. Under the table Harry took her hand and squeezed it. Hermione bit her lip and did the same. He could feel her body shake with emotion. Here was this friend he had since his first year. She fought and almost died for him. She was witty and full of knowledge, but here she was now, silent and pained. Hermione had spent years trying to save him and now she could only watch, completely powerless.

When Harry was almost done with his toast Ron and Ginny came into the kitchen. There was a feeble greeting as they settled into their place and their mother took her time in serving their food.

"I'm not hungry." Ginny said.

"Me neither." Ron added.

"Do what you want. We haven't much time until Dumbledore comes," she replied in a testy tone.

"I want to go with them." Ginny blurted out almost at once. "So does Ron."

Mrs. Weasley turned purple and Harry's eyes rounded in fear. "You are not going to that! I will not have you see that."

"No, you two stay here," Harry said. "I don't want you to see what happens to me."

Ginny's venomous glare returned. "I don't care."

"Yeah, mate. We're your friends and we want to be there for you."

"Ron, no. We don't even know how they are going to do it. Please, I don't want you to see it."

Ginny stood up and yelled at Harry, "We're going! Dumbledore will let us."

Hermione's soft voice interrupted her. "Don't, you two. If Harry doesn't want us to go then we won't. Respect his wish."

"Oh, I'm sure you want to stay, Hermione. You don't even want to be there for him. We asked you and you used that excuse. You're too afraid to face it."

"Of course I'm afraid!" she screamed as she stood up. "Our friend is about to be killed and there is nothing we can do about it. I'm hiding in shame! Here you are making Harry feel upset. He doesn't want you to see how they're going to kill him like some animal. You should be ashamed!"

A loud silence followed Hermione's outburst. Ron, stung by her words, sank slowly into his chair and said nothing. Ginny was trembling in emotion and seemed to be fighting off the urge to scream.

"Ginny, sit," her mother ordered as she wiped her eyes. "None of you are going."

Harry heard her obey when he stared at the table. He felt sick all of a sudden and had second thoughts about eating. Lupin had not said a word since yesterday. Harry knew what he was going through. His death was facing James' once more, and again there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The door to the kitchen opened at that moment and a weary Albus Dumbledore entered the room. He seemed much older than ever and Harry shifted his eyes away. Everyone's voice seemed to be caught in their throats.

"Harry, are you ready? We need to get there early."

"Yes," he replied. "Just let me say goodbye real quick."

Dumbledore nodded tiredly and left as Lupin got up to follow him out the door. Mrs. Weasley gripped Harry in a tight hug and kissed his head like the night before. The rest were a blur. He remembered Hermione's bushy hair in his face when she embraced him and wept on his shoulder. He saw Ron break down for the first time ever despite him reiterating "real men don't cry, don't make Harry upset, be brave" again and again. Ginny held her head down until he embraced her. That is all. They were going to lose him in minutes. They could touch his warm skin now but soon feel coldness in a heartbeat.

Now he was standing on a snowy hill with Dumbledore with Hogwarts far in the distance. That was where his body would go. " I should thank you for everything, Dumbledore," said Harry as he stared at the castle. "Voldemort is gone. You should be relieved."

"I feel only sadness, Harry. Yet I am proud of your accomplishments. You are like a son to me. I'm sorry it had to end this way."

"It had to."

There was a pop sound and two men appeared. It was Fudge and Det. Adner. Harry straightened and faced them defiantly.

"Harry Potter, you are here because of your foolish act of murder to an innocent man. Come forward, please, so that we can carry on." Harry saw Fudge hand something to the detective behind him in a swift motion. He was confirmed with the answer.

"You have killed with a muggle weapon, and now you shall be executed in the same manner."

Harry felt a rush of both fear and relief. He was going to suffer the same fate as Bagman, which he had instigated, but then again, if Fudge had any dignity at all, he would shoot him in the head.

Harry walked over to them and glared. "Hurry it up, Fudge."

"Kneel, Potter." Det. Adner ordered. When Harry's eyes met his something dawned on him. The man seemed to know why he had murdered Bagman, and he was reluctant to carry out the execution.

Harry obeyed. He felt the snow soak his robes as he shivered. It seemed much colder all of a sudden. The detective cocked the gun and glanced at the minister.

"Carry on, Adner."

Harry looked up at him and said quietly, "Just make it quick."

The man placed the gun at Harry's head, and he could feel the steel press against his skin. Harry closed his eyes. Adner pulled the trigger, and after a deafening crack, the bullet burst blood from Harry's head, and his body collapsed in a heap on the ground, unmoving.

Dumbledore let out a moan of grief. The two men stepped away, looking at the snow where a trail of red blood leaked profusely from the hole under his hair.

"The execution is finished," Fudge said with a hint of overwhelming emotion. "Take Potter to Hogwarts."

The moment they disapperated Dumbledore fell beside Harry's body. Here was the boy he had struggled to save all these years and now lay dead. Harry had been through so much that he wasn't sure if his death was the beginning of good or the start of the bad. He watched the blood end in its tracks. A pool of wasted life. Harry's eyes were peacefully closed as if even before the trigger was pulled he was with the people he loved and away from the pain.

Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on Harry's head and let it rest. The last of the Potter's lay at his feet, yet the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived still remained strong. Dumbledore lifted his hand to take Harry to Hogwarts and saw his palm wrinkled and bloody.

The house was silent as the headmaster returned. He thought everyone would be in the kitchen, where they indeed resided in. Hermione was the first to see him.

"Is he--?"

Ginny, Ron, Molly and Lupin spun around to face him. The man's face was horribly pale and stricken.

"Harry is gone."

Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek and fell into Lupin's embrace. Ron put his arm around Hermione as she sobbed and Ginny, in her corner, did nothing. She was too numb to respond. But something flickered in her head. What Harry had said the night before: "I mean, would I not die right away and suffer into death, or will it be quick and painless?"

"Sir," she said just above a whisper. "Was he in pain?"

"Not that I am aware of. They executed him in the same way as Bagman had died. Almost instant death."

"A gun?" Hermione whimpered.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "He bled but it has stopped. If you wish, you may see him."

"No," Ginny replied automatically. Everyone stared in surprise. "Let Harry rest. I know him alive and I wish for it to remain so."

"Me as well," replied Hermione.

"I agree." Ron muttered above her.

Dumbledore agreed. "Very well. We are all proud of what Harry has done for us. Now he can be rewarded."

"But, sir," Ginny said. "Why did Harry kill Bagman? He said that you knew."

"Child, he killed Bagman because he knew the prophecy that he could have traded to Voldemort, and was threatening to kill all of you."

**The End! I have changed the ending from the one in my notebook, which had it where his friends do see his execution. Also, in the notebook Ginny lays in bed with Harry but didn't kiss him. If you like this search for more of my stories. I'd be glad to hear from you! R&R!**


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